


on my own

by edward_keystone



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Sad Ending, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edward_keystone/pseuds/edward_keystone
Summary: The door is locked when the party returns from Shoin's island. Zolf gently pushes past Azu who had been trying to open the door and fishes out a key to unlock it.“That's strange,” Zolf comments.“Maybe Wilde needed to run some errands?” Hamid says.“What about the staff?” Cel interjects.“Cel is right. Someone is always here in case Curie needs to get in contact with us. Anyway, Wilde doesn’t really leave the place anymore. Not since-” Zolf stops himself.Hamid thinks about the scar on Wilde’s face, but knows better than to ask Zolf about it.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan & Zolf Smith, Zolf Smith & Oscar Wilde
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	on my own

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my first fic in 10 years and my first one in english.
> 
> if you feel that there should be tags or content warnings added please let me know!

The door is locked when the party returns from Shoin's island. Zolf gently pushes past Azu who had been trying to open the door and fishes out a key to unlock it.

“That's strange,” Zolf comments.

“Maybe Wilde needed to run some errands?” Hamid says.

“What about the staff?” Cel interjects.

“Cel is right. Someone is always here in case Curie needs to get in contact with us. Anyway, Wilde doesn’t really leave the place anymore. Not since-” Zolf stops himself.

Hamid thinks about the scar on Wilde’s face, but knows better than to ask Zolf about it. 

Zolf pushes the front door open and steps inside. The others follow after him. The air is stale. Like when you return from a holiday and the windows haven’t been opened in a while. It’s also incredibly quiet. Clearly no one is home. 

Zolf makes his way to the kitchen. He notices that it is pristine. Zolf and the cook have had long shouting matches in different languages about what state a place where you prepare food should be in. In all the time he has been here it has never looked like this. He takes a look into the pantry and finds no food at all. 

He finds the others standing in the living room looking confused and concerned. It looks like another house. The fire isn’t crackling comforting in the background, the latest book Zolf has been reading is not on the small table next to the rocking chair closest to the fireplace, the desk isn’t overflowing with papers of Wilde’s writing. Although he has an office upstairs, Wilde often sits at the desk in the living room and writes while Zolf is reading a romance novel. Just enjoying each other’s company in silence.

“Why is it so tidy? And more importantly where is Wilde?” Hamid asks uncertainly.

“No food in the kitchen either. Something’s definitely wrong. Let’s check upstairs.” Zolf strides towards the stairs.

Upon reaching the second floor Zolf checks his room first. It doesn’t contain a lot of things. Just a bed, a dresser and a desk and chair. Nothing seems out of place after a cursory look, so Zolf moves on.

Cel and Hamid check the two bathrooms and have not reported anything unusual. Azu checks the two guest rooms quickly and efficiently. Zolf opens Wilde’s bedroom. He has not been in here very often but the few times he has an abundance of clothes had always been occupying the entire couch and several book piles were next to his bed. Now it is indistinguishable from the guest rooms. Not one of Wilde’s possessions is in sight. The bad feeling in Zolf’s stomach intensifies by tenfold. He is rooted to the spot in front of Wilde’s bedroom.

“Zolf, we have something!” he hears Hamid yell. Zolf turns towards the voice and sees that the door to Wilde’s office at the end of the corridor is open and Hamid, Azu and Cel have gathered around the big work desk in the center of the room. 

Zolf slowly makes his way towards his friends; the uneasiness he is experiencing worsens with every step he takes. When he stands in front of Wilde’s desk, he feels like he might throw up. Hamid looks at him with concerned eyes but wisely does not mention the ashen color Zolf’s face has turned.

“There is a letter-“ Hamid starts.

“It’s addressed to Hamid!” Cel says.

The letter is the only thing on the oak work desk. Hamid’s name is written across the envelope in Wilde’s flourish handwriting.

Disappointment flits over Zolf’s features. He quickly looks up to see Hamid study him intensely.

“What are you waiting for? Open it.” Zolf says, voice hoarse.

“Zolf, maybe you should read it fi-“

“It’s addressed to you, isn’t it? Read the goddamn letter Hamid, we haven’t got time for this.”

Hamid opens the letter hesitantly. Zolf is not looking at anyone and stares at the spot on the desk where the letter used to be. 

“Dear Hamid,” he starts with a shaky voice.

“you might be wondering why I am addressing this letter to you and not Zolf. It’s true that you and I were never really close. And precisely this fact is why you are the right recipient of this letter. Some emotional distance is advantageous for what’s to come. By now you all will have realized that something is wrong. I do not know when you will read this. You have just left for Shoin's island as I am writing these lines."

"Zolf, I need you to know that this is not your fault.” Hamid pauses. 

Zolf’s hands are trembling, he curls them into fists at his side. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him.

“Continue,” he says through clenched teeth.

“I mean it, Zolf. I know you will not believe me. But there is absolutely nothing you could have done. I have been infected.”

Zolf’s knees buckle and he barely catches himself with his right forearm on the edge of the desk. His loud breathing sounds harsh in the quiet of the room.

“It happened right after you left. I was attacked outside of the house. It was only one. I do not know how it got here. We thought we were remote enough. But it turns out we were wrong. I killed it but not before it had a chance to bite me. I sent the staff away immediately. I am alone and have no way of contacting you. Not that it would matter anyway. We have plans for just this occasion. With you gone it will have to be Plan B. Which in some ways is easier because you are not here to do it but difficult because I have to do it myself.”

At this Zolf looks up for the first time, looking panicked. 

Hamid continues. “I would have liked to have known that our goodbye today was the last time we would ever see each other. But I guess few are given the luxury in life to know that those were the last words spoken to a loved one, the last hug, the last kiss.”

“Hamid, I need you to look after Zolf now.” Hamid’s voice hitches.

“He mourned you and Sasha for a very long time. I was the only constant in his life then. But then you came back. And now I am gone.”

A horrible sound makes Hamid look up from the letter. Tears are streaming openly down Zolf’s face. And have been for a while by the looks of it. He just couldn’t keep crying silently any longer.

“Please dispose of my body the usual way we deal with the infected. You do not need to notify anyone of my passing. It has all been taken care of. I sent word to Curie and she will arrange for my replacement.”

“I struggle to find the right words to end this suicide note. Granted, I never thought I would write one.” 

“Zolf, there is a letter for you in the drawer of your bedside table.”

“Forever yours, Oscar Wilde”

The second Hamid finishes the letter Zolf dashes out of the room, ignoring the shouting from his friends.

Zolf makes his way down the two flights of stairs to the door leading to the basement. He hesitates. He knows what’s behind that door. He thinks for one foolish second if he doesn’t open it, it won’t be real. But then, he has never been that lucky in life. 

Zolf pushes the door open. He did not bring a torch with him. He can see everything perfectly fine in the dark. From the basement door he is able to make out the slumped over body in the cell where not too long ago Hamid and Azu were forced to stay for 7 days. He can see the curly hair obscuring the face of the body. But he doesn’t need to see his face. He _knows_ it’s him. Zolf approaches the cell slowly. Once he reaches it, his legs finally give out and he ends up on his knees, gripping the bars, knuckles white. The only things he registers are the smell of iron that is suffocating and the pool of blood below the body, originating from two long and ragged wounds on the body’s forearms.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Zolf thinks. They had made these plans in case one of them got infected. But really it was in case Zolf got infected when returning from somewhere dangerous. The thought that Wilde could be the infected one had never crossed Zolf’s mind once. It was supposed to be him. It was supposed to be _him_.

Zolf barely registers Hamid’s hand on his shoulder. He stares blankly ahead. Hamid is trying to get him to get off the floor and leave. Zolf doesn’t have it in him to fight Hamid. But he also does not cooperate. Azu steps in to carry Zolf away from Wilde’s corpse. As Zolf is being dragged away his gaze never leaves Oscar.

Hamid sighs. He is still holding Wilde’s letter in his hand. He remembers what Wilde had asked him to do. “Look after Zolf.” Hamid and Zolf have been apart for some time. Even longer for Zolf than for him. He has grown and changed in that time. Zolf has changed as well. 

They are not as close as they used to be. Hamid truly questions if he can be enough for him. 

If this isn’t the blow that finally breaks Zolf. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!


End file.
